We Need a Theme Song
by epiphanies
Summary: As Buffy is shopping, somebody's cart bumps into her. She was about to brush it off when she realizes who she's looking at- and why is he holding Weetabix? Post Season Six.


We Need a Theme Song

  
  


As Buffy compared prices on juice in the grocery store, her mind began to wander. 

Best Served Cold.

Oh man, she smirked, I spent way too much time with Spike...

Hm. Wonder what he's up to?

She hated that. She was even trying to be casual about his sudden departure in her mind. It was beginning to drive her crazy now she was forced to be the peppy one in the group.

Tara was gone. Willow was a total wreck, even four months later... Anya and Xander were incredibly edgy (which, Buffy suspected, was due to their raging hormones and desire for things to be the way they used to be)....Dawn was ok, but was still really sad about Tara's death. And Giles...well, Giles was hardly ever even around.

That left Buffy to be everybody's standby. To be everyone's hand holder...and to have two shoulders so that everybody and then some would have somewhere to cry. Buffy was almost relieved that Spike had left. Almost.

She knew what he'd done before he disappeared was inexcusable. He knew it too, she could tell by the look in his eyes, the sorry yet terrified glance after she'd pushed him into the wall of her bathroom. 

But she'd had lots of time to think things over...and something came to her mind.

He didn't have a soul. Why didn't he do it? I have no right to be angry really, because he has no soul. So he didn't even know what he was doing. Therefore, I do not love him., I do not care about him and I will leave it at I hope I'll never see him again.

Buffy's thoughts were interrupted by a bump at her hip. She turned.

"Oh miss, I'm sorry-"

But the voice stopped as soon as they eyes locked.

Buffy couldn't blink. Buffy couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.

"Spike." she finally choked out, and he blinked and stared at her again.

"You...you- you're here." she breathed, then narrowed her eyes, "You're here. How long have you been here, Spike?"

Spike licked his lips uncomfortably, "You mean, here as in the grocery store or-"

"You know what I mean. This town. Sunnydale, you know?" she hissed.

"So, here here, then? Well...about two days."

Buffy couldn't think of anything to say.

"Well- well-" she stammered, and suddenly looked very angry, "Why did you leave? And why did you show back up here? And why weren't you around to fight the biggest fight I've ever...and why didn't you say goodbye to Dawn? And why did you make me leave her with Clem? Why did you do what you did to me in the bathroom to make things ten times worse than they already were? And why, Spike, why did you always claim to not be like Angel when you up and left just like he did?"

Spike looked around at the people that were now staring at them.

"Buffy," he said lowly, "Could we do this someplace else?"

"Where?" Buffy was shouting now, "My bathroom? The Doublemeat? Your junk food infested crypt? The Magic Box? That old abandoned house? The Bronze? Where do you suggest, Spike?"

"Let's get out of here," he grabbed onto her arm and pulled out of the store, leaving both of their carts behind. He dragged her gently into an abandoned ally.

"Here good for you?" Buffy spat, and Spike pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath.

"I don't know if I remember all of those questions that you asked me in there..." he looked at the ground, "But to why I left? I left to get the chip out."

To this, Buffy was speechless.

"I did not get the chip out after all," he continued, "But I did get something else."

"What?" Buffy said warily, backing off a little.

"Let's just say that Angel ain't so bleeding original anymore."

"You mean..." Buffy trailed, then cocked her head in amazement.

"Well," Spike smirked, "I haven't started brooding and crying about my hair..." he hesitated and then looked slightly sick, "Yet."

"But...how?" Buffy's eyebrows knitted together in a complete 'Buffy doesn't like being bewildered' way.

"Long story," Spike hesitated, then considered, "Actually, no. Short story. I killed a couple of demony thingies and this big demony thingie with glowy eyes gave me my soul back."

"A big demony thingie with glowy eyes?" Buffy repeated.

"A big demony thingie with glowy eyes." Spike confirmed, "And you wouldn't mind making up a list of those questions you asked earlier? I'm getting old, my memory's startin' to go."

Buffy watched him for a few more seconds, her eyes flashing between confusion, bewilderment, disbelief, concern, fury and wonderment.

"You ok?" he asked softly after she didn't speak.

"Um..." she closed her eyes in concentration, "I have to get home...Dawn and Willow and I are having a girl thing."

"I see." Spike nodded thoughtfully, then looked at her in the eye, "Can I stop by later? I wasn't planning on having a welcome home party, 'specially so soon. But...we need to talk."

"Yeah. Be...be on my back porch at one, ok?"

"Right-O. And Buffy..." he trailed, as she turned to leave the allyway.

"What?"

"I'm...I'm sorry. About what I did...what I said when I..."

Buffy's eyes shone with an emotion Spike couldn't read.

"Later," she whispered to him as she turned, "We'll talk later."

*

Buffy yawned. It was ten minutes to one by the time she'd managed to get her friend and sister up the stairs to bed. 

She licked her lips and looked in the mirror. She wore boxers and a white tank top as PJ's. 

Should I go out there like this, she wondered. Then she smirked, "Screw it. He's seen me in less, after all."

So, she took one deep breath and opened the door to the back. He wasn't there yet. She sat herself carefully down on the stairs and closed her eyes...

***

"What do you want?"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is there anything I can do?"

***

"Why are you always around when I'm miserable?"

"It's when you're alone most often, I reckon. I'm...not one for crowds lately."

"Me neither."

"That works out nicely then."

***

She blinked and realized that her eyes were full to the brim with tears. She began to whisper words of a song...a song that she hadn't heard for nearly one year.

"I died," she closed her eyes again, trying to understand the feeling of the song, "So many years ago..but you can make me feel as though that isn't so. Why you come to be with me...I think I finally know....You're scared. Afraid of what you feel...and you can't tell the ones you love, you know they couldn't deal. A whisper in a dead man's ear doesn't make it-"

Buffy stopped short. It was the story of her life, wasn't it? Hiding the people she loved from the truth? Her mom didn't know about slaying...for ages she kept inside that she had been forced to send Angel to hell. She'd kept mostly to herself about Dawn being the Key...she hadn't purposely told her friends that she'd been in heaven and only by accident did any one of her friends find out about her relationship with-

"You going to stop so soon? You haven't even reached that part where I throw a bottle against the wall."

Buffy looked up, glad it was dark so he wouldn't see her blush-or her tears.

"Hey," she said quietly, and patted the step beside her. He sat.

"So," he started, "What's new and exciting in Sunnydale?"

Buffy cringed. He didn't know anything....about anything.

"Ok. Um..." she started, then explained last spring's situation to him, full with every painful detail. He was a very good audience, gasping, frowning, and sighing at every turn of events. At the end, he looked amazed.

"Lumberjack saved the world?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, "He really did. So...what's new with the Great Ensouled One Jr?"

"Never call me that," he growled, but Buffy could see that he was trying not to laugh.

"I was in Africa...and I told you the story. I wanted the chip out, but I got the soul instead."

"So...how's the soul?"

"A little weird...rusty." he admitted, "I did a lot of thinking when I got it back."

"Not a lot of sleeping though," Buffy finished for him, and shrugged at his surprised look, "Angel had tons of nightmares when he got his soul back. I just figured..."

Spike nodded, then turned to her, "What about you? You've told me every little detail about everybody else...but you haven't mentioned yourself in these turns of events. How are you doing?"

"Ok," she started, "I'm ok. There are some nights where I can't sleep at all... I just stay up and think about everyone I've lost. Dad, Kendra, Angel, Riley, Mom, Tara, you...God, even Cordelia."

"Me? When thinking about people you lost you think about me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I just....never mind."

"No, Spike." she put her hand on his knee, "Really. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I thought I was nothing to you. Just your part time boy toy."

Buffy removed her hand from his knee and looked away, "I told you I cared, Spike."

"But see, to a bloke so fully and completely in love that's just like saying the phrase 'I just want to be friends'. It doesn't work well that way."

"So you left? You left because I wouldn't sleep with you."

"No, I left because you didn't love me and I knew you never could. Only one other activity than what we did ever gave me such pleasure, such rush, such a free flow of passion."

"Killing," Buffy guessed, and Spike nodded.

"I don't see...I can't see how but every night I wake from another dream...it's one dream for each victim, Buffy. Did Angel ever tell you that? You get a nightmare for each victim you killed. Buffy, I've nearly reached my 100th nightmare, but that doesn't mean anything. I killed at least one person a day up until two years ago, meaning that I've killed 120 years worth of innocent people. One a day. It will take centuries for these dreams to pass."

"I'm sorry...I am..."

"Don't be, it's not your fault."

"But I drove you away. I mean... the things you did...that was just...but I'm sorry, I'm sorry to see that you're in pain. But I've never been happier thinking about how you have your soul."

She paused, "Um...were there any conditions that allowed you to keep it?"

Spike grinned, fully understanding her meaning, "Nope. It's here for good."

"Oh." Buffy tried to hide her smile, "Good."

Spike started to chuckle, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's what supposed to mean?" Buffy said innocently as she looked him in the eye. They stared at each other for a few more moments, and Buffy whispered, "Welcome home, Spike."

"Home is where the heart is....I heard that once," he raised an eyebrow, "Does that mean that there happens to be a room free at the Summers' residence?"

Buffy smiled slowly and she closed her eyes.

Spike's lips brushed against hers softly.

To hell with it, she thought, and raised her hand behind his neck, deepening the kiss.

He pulled back and licked his lips. Buffy leaned against him.

"Spike?"

"What, love?"

She sighed and smiled to herself, "We need a theme song."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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